First, the basics:
This is a work of fiction. Those who are underage or for any other reason should not be reading sexually explicit material, close this window. Copyright 2011. Any praise, criticism, or comments are to be sent to me: Not_your_Typical_Master@yahoo.com
Enjoy!
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April 4th
This morning, cleaning up from YOUR breakfast, YOUR servant found that YOU had left on the table an ad from a local electronics store. A video camera was circled.
That was all the instruction that was needed. During the day, while YOU were at work, YOUR minion went to the store and purchased the camera for YOU.
YOU have never asked for anything in terms of gifts, only in terms of service. But there is an incredible need to serve YOU in every way, to continually give to YOU whatever YOU desire. So this high-end camera was purchased as a gift given to YOU in gratitude for all YOU have provided, taught, and fed. For YOUR willingness to slack, if not completely satiate, YOUR addict's needy hunger for YOU.
It was, of course, humiliating walking into the store with a huge fake cock snaking down YOUR whore's tight jeans. It did mean, however, getting extra attention from a presumably gay salesman. Nothing happened, thankfully, that would force a discussion of what was down there and what was locked up, unusable.
Driving home, YOUR whorehole realized that this gift wasn't sufficient. There was a deeper need to give something even more significant. It wasn't until a church was passed that the answer became clear.
YOU deserve an offering. A weekly payment for all YOUR trouble. A tribute to a god.
A stop to the bank resulted in 5, $50 bills. New, crisp, shiny -- YOU deserve the finest. Once getting home, the week's checks from clients were signed over to YOU and left on the table next to the offering.
This will be a weekly routine. Yes, this means that any funds YOUR trivial servant has accumulated for a retirement or a "rainy day" will slowly be drained. But what has become clear is that with YOU, there are no rainy days. And if YOUR faggot is to completely surrender to YOU, then that means financially as well. A true slave has no backup. A true slave has no "plan B."
The only plan is to be YOURS as long as YOU allow.
April 12th
Another new low. YOUR suckbitch should be used to this by now, but it always comes as a surprise.
You said YOU would be using this week's offering to take a coworker out on a date. And that YOU would be bringing her home afterwards and that everything should be laid out romantically, to seduce her into spending the night.
YOUR sexuality has never been discussed. There had always been an assumption, unwarranted, that YOU only enjoyed men. The ads placed on Craigslist were always seeking men to use. But, of course, assumptions are foolish. No questions could be asked with YOUR cuntface's mouth locked. So YOUR home was prepared for a romantic rendezvous with a woman to whom YOU are attracted.
YOU arrived home with her around 10:30 last night. Candles and flowers decorated YOU home. Soft music was playing from YOUR stereo. YOUR servant was dressed in the tuxedo. YOUR coat and YOUR date's coat were taken and hung in the hall closet. A bottle of champagne was opened and slid into the bedside ice bucket, next to a plate of berries and cream.
After YOU and YOUR date chatted awhile, YOU indicated that the two of YOU would be heading into the bedroom and YOUR servant should clean up. YOUR date asked YOU who YOUR servant was.
"Just a queer who wants to sleep with me. I don't fuck him or anything. I just allow him to be a butler for me. You know: cook, clean, do laundry, run errands.... He loves doing it. Makes him feel useful to me."
"You don't have sex with him, Mitchell?"
"Jesus no. I mean, just look at him. Even if I was gay, who'd want to screw that old thing?"
"Mitchell, he's right here listening!"
"So? He knows how lucky he is to be here."
She shrugged. The subject was closed. YOUR butler was gratified to know that YOU understood all that was felt inside.
While quietly cleaning up in the living room, blowing out the candles and getting things ready for breakfast for YOU and YOUR date tomorrow, YOU were heard as YOU made love to her. There was nothing aggressive in YOUR lovemaking. It sounded soft, sensual, and romantic. She was heard moaning in ecstasy, a sound no man has made while being used by YOU. Many men have moaned, yes, but never has one had the pleasure of orgasm while servicing YOU.
And then it became clear: woman are for romance, for making love to. Queers are to use, to exploit.
Thank YOU for exploiting and using YOUR queer. YOUR addict will soon be heading into the guest room to sleep on the floor aching to even be in the same room as YOU, but knowing such things are beyond a queer's worthiness.
THANK YOU for the opportunity to be of use to YOU. In any way YOU desire. Any way.
April 23rd
Another deepening of servitude. Thank YOU so much for YOUR continuing education.
Last night YOUR friend Duncan came over with his fagdad. YOU had not said anything about his arrival, so it was a surprise. There was a knock at the door and YOU said "answer it." So YOUR naked fagbitch opened the door and found Duncan there, his fagdad on all 4's behind him. Duncan didn't acknowledge YOUR stupid fuckbitch in any way, simply walking in and calling out a hello to YOU. The fagdad obediently followed, led by the chain attached to his nose ring.
The two of YOU spoke in YOUR other language so YOUR faggot has no idea what was said. Clearly, that was the fucking point. Such things were not to be known. A faggot, YOUR faggot, has no need to know what men talk about.
YOU did speak English, though, to instruct YOUR butler to get out the electro gear and a set of shackles YOU have kept under the bed. YOU have used the shackles to sometimes lock YOUR fuckholes in place, denying them any means of adjusting to YOUR rapes. YOUR instructions were followed, the tools placed on the floor at YOUR feet.
Duncan told the fagdad to lock YOUR queerhole in the shackles, head to the floor, hole in the air. The most humiliating position possible, of course. Then the fagdad attached electropads to YOUR bitch's balls.
Oh, God. There has never been any desire for pain play. There has been no practice in it. But, thinking back on that first visit and the sounds of the fagdad's agony, an advanced education was about to take place.
Duncan didn't instruct the fagdad to give the controls to anybody. He simply said, "I don't hear any screaming." Fagdad took that as instruction and turned on the juice. He (and YOU) now heard screaming. Plenty of it.
Duncan immediately grabbed the leash and pulled the fagdad to his crotch. The fagdad silently sucked and worshipped his meat. YOU helped YOURSELF to his fuckhole.
YOUR fagbitch screamed and cried, dealing with the double blow of incredible agony to the nuts, this sensation of hot rusty knives slicing through testicles, and the agony of watching another fagslave being put to use servicing YOUR hungered-for, magnificent prick.
The two of YOU used the fagdad for awhile, laughing at YOUR whore's pathetic screams, and discussing other matters that couldn't be understood. The entire time YOUR lowlife wailed in agony and dreamed of being YOUR fuckhole.
YOU sneered down, put your left foot in front of YOUR worshipper, and gave the magic word: "Suck." YOUR faggot opened up and inhaled YOUR big toe, loving it as if it were YOUR prick, providing whatever pleasure and service YOU allow. The screams were now muffled to vibrations around YOUR delicious big toe.
Duncan stopped speaking to YOU in whatever language it was and simply said, "Louder." The fagdad turned up the juice. And louder it was. Just a constant scream of agony fed to YOUR toe as the two of YOU laughed. Duncan said "Switch" and the fagdad spun around to swallow YOUR meat and to ride on Duncan.
YOUR fagbitch wanted the agony to end, but also wanted the joy or pleasuring YOUR toe to last forever. There was this incredible mix of pain and pleasure, both feeding on each other, creating a state YOUR queerhole has never experienced. Finally understanding what most slaves already know: pleasure and pain are not opposites -- they are different shades of the same thing. A feeling of intense sensation. Life with the volume turned all the way up.
Apparently YOUR bitch's screams changed somehow. Duncan shared some joke with you, nodding at YOUR screaming carcass on the floor. YOU nodded, smiling that captivating smile, and giving YOUR whore a wink.
Oh, Jesus. That wink. Shivers went up the spine and the faggot cock pulsed so hard it emptied a load from YOUR fagbitch's frying slaveballs. That sign of YOUR pleasure and approval made YOUR slave ever more deeply possessed. YOUR big toe was inhaled, swallowed, worshipped ... there had been nothing ever in life that created the feelings of joy and ecstasy YOU brought forth with just a wink of YOUR eye.
Thank YOU so fucking much. Thank YOU thank YOU thank YOU thank YOU. There need to be more words to this fucking language to express the depth of gratitude YOUR pig has for everything YOU do and everything YOU are.